Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1887-07-31

lBclsravia.l
CHAPTER /.


Iancelo. Saville stood contemplating
bis latest acquisition with the sa,isfac-
ton OF man who feels he has achieved
a triumph. With pains and care and
many patient wanderings through OBJ
scure and unknown quarters OF the grei
city he had brought together his fins
collection of early English furniture.
And this bureau OF exquisite design AMI
perfect workmanship was his very latest
purchase.
II was very Dainty article, richly
inlai6 with different colored woods.
Dancing Cupids and wreaths of roses
ornamentcd every drawer and tiny cup
board. A faint, for away perfume of
roses chung to it, as with the tendcrest
touch Imaginable. Saviile opened and
examined each fairy receptacie, where
somc pretty woman of the last cen
tory might have kept her treasures
Ee was very proud Of his room T;
every article it contained belonged
to the same period. The drapcries
were copied ircm old pictures OF
the tine. Even The flowers with which
he decorated ii were such SIS his great
grandmother might have arranged on
her table, ana now lis task was fin
isheo--his labor OF love at an end. Can
ycu blame him if he felt just the least
possible sensation Of regret ? The
search for these beautiful things had
afforded him an additional interest in
life FOR some years. And now it was at
L. n,os.,,,t.o,, f.nn II WAC
with the slightest possible deepeningo OF
q respiration that he quilted his be-
loved apartment and went to prepare
for dinner.
Iancolot Savillc was n society man
we'll bonn, well OF, single, with few
extrayncances. comcly to look upon.
and siiil young ; he was an object of
envy to many young men III less fortu-
peie circumstances. Yet he, in turn,
envicd the vericst scribbler who had
ever tasted the supreme ecstacy of see
ing the work OF his brain appear i'll
print. To be a writer. to know those
deep joys which only the fortunate
possessoTs of the creative power under
stand, was the great ambition of his
life. The hours he had spent at his
desk, the reams of paper he had
blot,ed. bore evidence to his patience
and industry very excellent qualities
in themselves, but alas they are only
the hand. maids OF genius, and where
the greater gift is lacking the toilers
toll III vain.
Unfortunately for his happiness Sa-
Of
critical acunen. His judgment refused
to tie satisfied with his work. This
uncomfortable gift kept him from rush
ing into print and adding his yearly
atoms to the dust-heap OF bad novels.
and in the long run saved him from
bitter modification. Many of his
manuscripts sought the dust-heap with
out the intervention of publisher or
public. and SAville worked on, hoping
some day to give the world book it
would pause 10 read. He went to his
dinner party and TO a large reception
after it, returning home late. Ii his
room looked woll in the cold light of
day i, seemed ten times more beautiful
when the argand lamps cast subiuel
lustrc upon his treasures. Saville felt
almost a childish delight in the beauty
of il Gs he stood upon the threshold
and looked around.
Exchanging his evening coat for
loose. comfortable dressing-gown, he
flung himself into on eaSy-chair and
sat looking at his new purchase in ma
feigned admiration. The dainty grace
of the thing appealed to his magma
ton strangely.
alt has history" he said. half
aloud. Il am certain it has history.
Once upon time it belonged to some
beautiful woman who is now dust and
ashes. She sat and wrote her letters,
her diary every woman kept diary a
hundred years ago-lust here" He
turned down the falling front Of his
bureau, resting his arms upon it as he
unused.
"Shc must have been rich this thing
cost money. And she was young
once, at any rate. The pity OF it is
they don't always keep young. I'll say
she was young when she sat and wrote
here, i'll this very spot where | sit now.
Perhaps she wrote her love-letters with
hands that shook and heart beating at
high pressure. Well, well, for one
shall never know her history; whether
she were of the wise or the foolish ones
if she were saint or sinner Il demuro
maiden living on into IA quiet faded age
of single blessedness IA happy wife and
mother, seeing her children's children
growing up around her before she died,
or broken hearted widow, whose sor-
rows found vent upon paper-ju Just
here"
He leaned back in his chair for a
moment or two.
"Sbe was fond of altar of rooes," he
muttered. "How those drawers smell
of it Queer that it should suddenly
grow so strong" for a watt of perfume
filled the room and swept over him, as
if some one carrying a bouquet of old
fashioned odorous roses had passed by
and shook out the scent. At this same
moment cold shiver, like an arrow of
ice, darted through Ssville's frame.
He sprans to his feet and looked hastily
around. OF course the room was
empty; tho fire had gone down and
the lamps burned low.
"Fah !" he said, ~ am hipped to-
night the wind has gone to the east
and the fire gone to the dogs. I'm as
nervous as any fine lady who doses her
felf with choral and then wonders why
sic feels shaky. III stop dreaming over
my doar bureau and so to bed like a
sensible man."
He did 20, bu. it WAS strange that as
he closed the desk the same cold shiver
passed over him and the curious sense
Of ali unseen presence came upon him
with a sweep of rose perfume, which
again filed the room.
He caught up candle and examined
every nook in his sitting-room, the
dining-room, and even the luxurious
bed room, which formed the whole of
his residence,
at is a curious thing" he said. as
he prepared for rest. q never re-
member feeling anything like it be-
fore. 1t seemed as if some one were
standing behind me--some one who
wanted TO sec me to speak to me.
Bah I'm tired; had something at
Firth's which has disagreed with me,
and the wind is in the east I'll think